out shelter. However, I did not get frightened at Richlov's threats. I had been in Russia during the war. Nevertheless, I was in a strange land, and did not know what to do. Father Richlov, seeing my hesitation, assumed a different tone. He swore, making the sign of the cross thrice, that he would not give my "Confession" to anyone until he should have received the cash in full, that he would not let anyone harm me, and that should Platon and Alexander refuse to return my money, he, Richlov, would appear in Court as a witness in my favor.
This latter promise of his produced its effect on me and, believing Father Richlov was telling the truth, I took the rough draft, copied and signed it before a notary and gave it to Father Richlov.
The next day I went with Father Richlov to get the money. Father Richlov told me to wait on Fifth Avenue and 97th Street, and himself went to the "Holy" Fathers. In a few minutes he came back and gave me a little book, saying: "The Metropolitan cannot receive you now. He is busy with General Semionov and Ambassador Bakhmetyev, but he sends you his blessings and this Holy Book of the Gospels." I took the book, opened it, and not finding any money in it, asked Richlov for it. He went back, and in about fifteen minutes brought me $200.00, which he handed me in an ice cream parlor on the corner of Fifth Avenue and 6th Street. He kept $20.00 "for his trouble" and assured me that he had not obtained all the money to-day for the sole reason that the Metropolitan was busy with Semionov, and that to-morrow the Metropolitan would give the rest of the money. "To-morrow," Father Richlov continued, "Platon is to get One Million Dollars from Bakhmetyev, and you will get all your money, both the sum you left for safe-keeping and the money you paid for the shares." But this "to-morrow" has lasted until this very day. And besides, Father Richlov continually threatens me, in Platon's name, with imprisonment in this country and deportation to Russia, and also adds: "Your confession is in the hands of Metropolitan Platon, and if you dare as much as utter a word about your money, you will land where no one will be able to find you. As for your money—you will never get it until your dying day."
I, John, son of Feoktist, Dudikoff, was born in the city of Moghilev, in the Government of Kamenetz-Podolsk, on March 30, 1887. My father, Feoktist Andreyevitch Dudikoff, was in the Holy Synod service, with the rank of Privy Councilor. He resigned from his post in 1911, after the assassination of Premier Stolypin and became manager of the estates of Prince Obolensky and Count Rad-
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